Down the street

Other than a few doves cooing, it is a warm and quiet Saturday afternoon. I am in the living room of my newly rented ranch style house, working on my macbook. My wife is in the bedroom, at the other end of the house, doing the same.

I hear then see a bright blue Honda CRV pull into the driveway. A tall woman with long black hair steps out of the driver’s side and walks briskly to the front door. Instantly, my adrenaline starts to pump as I shoot up out of my seat. I am confused about who this could be, and shout across the house, “are you expecting anyone?” My wife, Cathy, must have her Bose headphones in because I don’t hear a reply. You see me through the window, smile and wave excitedly.

I walk to the door and open it slightly. You are standing there with a clipboard and a smile. Wearing a loose knit black sweater, black tights and black leather boots up to your knees with the zippers slightly undone. This somehow accentuates your knees and thighs in a way I have not appreciated.